


The Night After

by fauxpas



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e06 Motel California, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:18:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauxpas/pseuds/fauxpas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Stiles and Scott need to be with each other after the chaos and gut wrenching of the last 72 hours of hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night After

He looked up at the sound of movement on his roof. The noise of not-quite clumsy shuffling and uncertainty upon reaching his window. The jolt of the window being opened abruptly because after that first inch, the window decided it is a good time to disregard friction. He smiled at the familiar cursing of his best friend, just before he slipped through the now opened window. He just caught himself before he finally made it onto the floor and he looked at him anxiously.

Stiles stood awkwardly in Scott’s room, at the foot of the full-sized bed. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, and his hands were trembling. He kept looking around Scott’s room, only to quickly return his focus back to Scott. Almost as if Scott would vanish if Stiles didn’t keep a close eye on him.

“Hey man, are you okay?” Scott asked, concerned. He’s not quite sure why he asked because there’s no way in hell that Stiles was okay. Hell, Scott was still not okay. Not after the night they just went through. Not after what he almost did while under the influence of that god-awful air-borne wolfsbane.

“Yeah, totally,” Stiles answered, trying to play it off as if the previous night hadn’t happened. As if the entire situation of this school year hadn’t put a strain on his capacity to function. “It’s just, I can’t… No… It’s… we almost died last night, and I can’t stop thinking about how you were,” Stiles choked, crouching down and curling up at the base of Scott’s bed. “I can’t stop thinking about what you said. How you said it. How determined I was to die with you. How I still believe that a world without you is not worth living in,” Stiles whispered, fighting back the tears threatening to come out again. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about it, and none of the drugs I have stashed away in my room are making it stop.”

Stiles looked up at Scott, who had gotten out of his swivel desk chair. Scott was crying too, trembling just as much as Stiles was. He was quick in joining Stiles on the floor, leaning against his human friend and brother.

Scott wrapped an arm around Stiles’ waist, leaning into his shoulder. Stiles returned the gesture, pulling Scott closer by wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Scott’s head rested on Stiles’ shoulder, who in turn was resting his head on Scott’s. Fingers tangled into shirts as they sat side by side and cried together. Stiles buried his nose into Scott’s short hair, taking in the faint scent of his friend and trying not to snot into his hair at the same time.

They sat like that, together, immersed in each other’s presence for a long while. They only moved when they felt the need to shift from the hard floor. Their bodies further tangling as time went on, both not wanting the other to slip through their fingers. Like they were so close to doing less than twenty four hours ago.

Scott found himself sitting in Stiles’ lap, his back resting against the human’s lithe form. The strength that Stiles’ seemingly weak body gave off comforted Scott, despite the werewolfitude of their predicament. Stiles was always there, a constant in his now chaotic life.

Stiles buried his face into the back of Scott’s neck, tears still quietly streaming down his cheeks. His grip on Scott tightened. “Please, Scott,” he whispered. “Please don’t go where I can’t follow,” he begged, kissing the back of Scott’s neck where his tears had trailed.

Scott choked out a rattled gasp at Stiles’ plea. His body shuddered, and fresh tears came up. At this moment, he was glad his mother wouldn’t be coming home soon and Isaac was being a recluse somewhere outside the hose. He felt like he’d shatter if anyone disrupted the delicate situation at hand. “I won’t,” Scott answered, clinging to Stiles’ arms. “I… I…” He couldn’t get the right words out. How his actions had affected Stiles; how useless he felt in the face of all the supernatural events in their life; how nothing he did ever seemed to make a difference in the way he wanted it to. The hopelessness from last night seemed to creep back into his mind, clouding his thoughts. “Stiles,” Scott whined, curling into himself and deeper into Stiles’ embrace.

Stiles tightened his hold, kissing Scott again and again. On the neck. On his hair. On his ear. On his cheekbone.

Stiles managed to turn Scott around so he was facing him, but still in his tender enclosure. He kissed Scott’s forehead before resting his own forehead on Scott’s. “You are one of my greatest treasures, Scott,” Stiles whispered, his words wet with tears and emotion. He leaned forward, capturing Scott’s lips with his own.

It wasn’t their first kiss together, but it was messy. They were an emotional wreck, and they needed one another right now. The world could go on without them for this moment in time.

Stiles’ fingers twined with Scott’s hair and white shirt as he deepened the kiss. He carefully pulled them both onto the bed with the help of Scott’s werewolf strength and luck. Stiles blanketed Scott, protecting him from the outside world and his own fears. They pulled away for quick breaths between drawn out kisses.

Scott’s hands crept under Stiles’ black undershirt, feeling the developed muscles of Stiles’ back. The contours from his slightly protruding spine and scars. Scars that Scott did not know the origin of. He pushed Stiles down, closer to him.

Stiles let out a low keen when their hips met, and their crotches met with the friction of each other’s jeans. He jerked his hips forward, over Scott’s. Blunt, human nails dragged across his back as Stiles crashed their mouths together again. Stiles felt Scott’s hands shift down to the buttons of his pants and slowed his movements to make it easier on Scott. He trailed butterfly kisses down Scott’s neck and along his collarbone.

Stiles groaned when Scott’s hand wrapped around his dick. His hips bucked forward, into the warmth of Scott’s hand, and he bit into Scott’s neck. He licked and mouthed at the quickly fading hickey while working Scott’s shirt up. He wanted to be able to see the man his friend had grown into, really see him. Study him. Play out his adoration for Scott in the spastic motions of his lips and hands. He had to show Scott that he meant the world to him and how much he still hurt from Scott’s drugged-up suicide attempt.

A sharp jerk of Scott’s hand caused Stiles to pull back from his ministrations and arch his back, baring his chest to Scott. His eyes were blown with lust and red from recent tears. Stiles choked out a whine as Scott continued to pump his hand up and down his cock, mixing it up with the occasional flick of the wrist or complete jerk in a random direction.

He could feel himself nearing orgasm, as Scott only increased his pace. Just as he felt the pressure build to its peak, Stiles stopped Scott’s hand with a firm grip on his arm. “Sc-Scott, wait,” Stiles’ jumbled words came out a weak stutter. “Please.”

Scott pulled back, silent curiosity and concern glowing in his eyes. He watched as Stiles forced his focus onto freeing Scott’s dick, and Scott felt his eyes roll back as Stiles started to work on his cock. A sharp gasp escaped him when he felt fingers brushing against his hole.

The dry friction hurt, as Stiles slowly pushed a finger into him, stopping at the first knuckle. He looked up to Scott, silently asking if the intrusion was okay. A quick nod was all he needed, before continuing to push inside Scott, who writhed around the gradual movements. Stiles worked his one finger in Scott, working different, inconsistent patterns of motion inside him. He watched as Scott’s dick would twitch as Stiles got closer to where he could only assume was Scott’s prostate. He pressed deep along Scott’s walls, seeking that bundle of nerves.

As if Scott could sense what Stiles was thinking, he groaned. “Stiles, hang on.”

Stiles pulled his finger out of Scott, who in turn crawled over to the nightstand at the side of his bed. He opened the bottom drawer, and fumbled with some of the contents inside. Scott would gasp from time to time as his dick caught the friction of his bed sheets.

After shuffling around, he pulled out a long, narrow box. “Found it,” Scott said, pulling the box with him as he returned to Stiles.

Stiles looked at the box curiously, quickly assuming it was lube and condoms. After all, his friend had had a much more active sex life than Stiles could ever hope for. He lifted the lid, to find that not only were there presumed items, but some toys as well. Including a glass vibrator that Stiles would swear up and down was probably for a girl. He watched Scott pull it out with a look of skepticism and trace amounts of anger. He did not need a reminder of Allison if they were going to do this.

“I-I was going to use this myself when with Allison,” Scott whispered, a sad smile on his face. He looked up at Stiles, wary about mentioning his ex and still very there love. “But,” he murmured, holding Stiles’ hand so he wouldn’t leave. “I want to fill you too.”

Stiles’ irritation faded, shoved to the back of his mind to rage about later. He crashed his lips into Scott’s, pushing him back into the mattress with renewed vigour. He was going to make Scott forget Allison tonight. Forget the hell they went through. Forget the hell they would be going through in the future. Right now, Scott was his, if only for this short time that they would probably never talk about.

He grabbed the lube from the box and fumbled with the bottle as he accidentally squeezed more than he planned. The cool jelly dripped through his fingers and onto Scott’s naval. Stiles let out a light chuckle when Scott hissed at the sudden chill.

Stiles rubbed the lube around Scott’s hole, slow, clockwise spirals that had Scott whining after a minute of teasing. With a quick kiss to Scott’s sternum, Stiles pushed his now slick finger all the way into Scott. He spent minutes stretching Scott with just one finger, torturing his friend with the drawn out prepping.

The second finger had Scott trying to push himself farther down Stiles’ hand, and the scissoring brought out whimpers with every graze of his prostate. Stiles was either missing the bundle of nerves on purpose, or he was guessing at it. Scott wouldn’t be surprised if it was either.

The addition of a third finger seemed to come a lot faster than the second, but that could have been because Stiles had split his focus between opening Scott up and playing with Scott’s dripping cock. Scott groaned, trying to thrust into Stiles’ hand, while pulling more of Stiles into him. They figured out an awkward rhythm that worked, Stiles pushing his fingers into Scott moments after he thrust into his hands.

“St-Stiles, please,” Scott cried, his body convulsing from the stimulation. “I need you. Please.”

Stiles smiled down at Scott and nodded in understanding. But first, he had to attend to his own hole if Scott wanted that dildo in him. He pulled Scott up, handing him the opened bottle of lube. The dildo was in his other hand. “I hope this hasn’t been used Scott, cause that would be nasty. And not the good kind.”

Scott laughed, taking the lube from Stiles. “No, it’s new. I was going to-” His words were cut off abruptly, Stiles crashing their lips together again.

He didn’t want to hear what Scott had to say. Didn’t want to hear about Scott’s future of sexual escapades. Not right now. Not ever. And he swore to himself if Scott tried that one more time, he’d force Scott to the brink of orgasm and stop it with a rubber band make-shift cock ring. He’d hurt Scott while pleasuring him.

Stiles quickly pushed those dark thoughts back. No. This was supposed to be comforting. For both of them. “I don’t want to know, Scott,” Stiles growled against Scott’s lips. He pulled Scott down, on top of him. Stiles loosely wrapped a leg around Scott’s hips, spreading himself out for Scott.

Scott seemed to pick up on what Stiles meant and turned all his focus on opening him up. He took his time, knowing this was Stiles’ first time. He made sure to make sure the lube was warm before putting it on Stiles and rubbing his slicked fingers along Stiles’ perineum and slowly into his hole. His actions were gentle, making sure not to rip or hurt Stiles. Scott took almost twice as long to prepare Stiles, taking pleasure in Stiles’ body reacting in a more needy manner than Scott had. Cries and keens of pleasure came out in a steady stream of verbal pleasure from Stiles, and Scott smiled to himself for being able to do this to Stiles.

When he felt comfortable with how Stiles was prepped, he kissed Stiles. His fingers massaged Stiles’ inner thighs as the continued to kiss. Their teeth clacked against one another, both losing themselves in the feelings of arousal they both had for each other. Before they could fall deeper, Scott retreated from Stiles, slicking the dildo with plenty of lube.

Scott pushed the ribbed head into Stiles, and Stiles’ body reacted almost violently. The sensation was very different from Scott’s fingers, the glass still slightly chilled at room temperature and the ribbing adding new sensation to being penetrated by the toy. Stiles whined, trying to push himself farther down the toy, feeling it bulge slightly.

“Scott,” Stiles cried, reaching a hand out to him. Their finger tangled together, and Scott kissed their knuckles as he pushed more of the dildo into Stiles. Stiles’ body took in two more inches of the toy, trying to take it all in. The curve and bumps of the glass filling Stiles in a way that was beyond satisfying.

When Scott finally managed to get the dildo in all the way, he trailed kisses up Stiles’ torso and he carefully pulled him up. Stiles whined as gravity forced his body onto the hilt of the toy. The loop at the end pushing the T almost painfully into his perineum. The feeling of being filled almost overriding his want to fill Scott with his own dick.

Scott quickly slipped a small, bullet shaped object into the loop and secured it. He proceeded to lean back into the pillows and headboard, and Scott pulled Stiles with him so he was once again blanketed with the protection that Stiles offered. The shift in positions had Stiles keening around the toy, and the noises were making it harder for Scott not to come right there. The whole ordeal was turning into a major test of endurance for the both of them.

Stiles had to take a minute to refocus himself, his hand gripping the base of his cock tightly to keep himself from going over the edge. He slicked his fingers with lube and slipped two back into Scott. Scott may have werewolf healing, but Stiles was not going to rip him.

The process was quick, and Stiles clumsily slipped a condom over himself and pumped his dick a few times with lube slicked fingers. His other hand held Scott down, who was working to further his own dick with his hand.

Stiles looked Scott in the eyes, blown out with lust and need. They were both covered in sweat and panting out humid gasps. “Ready?” Stiles asked, moving his hands so he could spread Scott out more.

“Ye-yeah,” Scott groaned. The teasing feeling of being filled and then empty again getting him in a fog of frustration. “Need you. In me. Please, Stiles.”

Stiles licked his lips and positioned himself at Scott’s entrance. He slid in easily, but slowly. The intense heat and constriction had Stiles moaning. His head fell back, baring his neck out of Scott’s reach. By the time he bottomed out, Stiles had to bite down on his lip to keep himself from coming right then and there. Scott was tight and hot and everything Stiles could ever dream of and more. Every movement Scott made sent jolts of pleasure through Stiles’ dick and into his groin.

“Stiles,” Scott moaned, gripping the sheets and a plastic contraption in a white-knuckled grip. “Move,” he growled, pushing a button on the remote.

Stiles’ hips jerked hard into Scott, as the bullet laced to the toy in his ass started to vibrate. He felt his body contract around the glass, and then an explosion of pleasure hit him and caused him to pull back, leaving just the head of his dick in Scott as he used the bed to push the toy farther into him. The vibrations shock him to the core, and they caused the dildo to brush his prostate every second.

A whine from Scott brought Stiles back, who shoved himself back into him. After some uneven attempts, they fell into a rhythm of Scott meeting Stiles, and when Stiles was at his deepest, Scott could just feel the vibrations of the toy through Stiles.

All thoughts seemed irrelevant and were brushed away as they lost themselves in the animalistic pace. They spilled words of endearment and encouragement to each other, as they came even closer to orgasm. Their hands clawing at each other’s backs. Their mouths meeting in messy, heated kisses.

Without meaning to, Scott pressed his hand into another button on the remote, increasing the vibrations that ran through the toy. Stiles’ hips sped up and lost their rhythm, his eyes rolling back as he came with a loud moan, Scott’s name flitting through the sound of absolute pleasure filling his body.

Stiles fell on Scott, his arms catching him on either side of his body. He breathed heavy into Scott’s neck and ground his weight into Scott’s still straining cock. Stiles carefully shifted his weight and took hold of Scott’s dick. He twisted his hand while he pumped, forcing his full-body weight to add more stimulation. Not a minute later, Scott was spilling his seed over his and Stiles’ chests.

Scott leaned up and captured Stiles’ lips. This time, their kiss was slow and filled with post-coital bliss. They rubbed against each other, this time just to feel that they were still together. That the other wouldn’t vanish and this wasn’t some sick and twisted dream.

Stiles slowly pulled out of Scott, who groaned at the sensation of losing the fullness that Stiles had given him. Stiles clumsily tied the condom closed and crawled out of bed. He dropped the condom in the trashcan by Scott’s desk and grabbed the tissue box and can and brought them next to the bed. Stiles took his time cleaning them up, Scott helping with the removal of the toy and cleaning Stiles as well. Stiles hadn’t even noticed that the vibrating bullet had fallen out when he left the bed, but he reveled in the feeling of the toy being moved inside him as it was taken out. The empty feeling he felt from the now put aside toy was quickly forgotten as Scott kissed him and pulled them down onto the mattress. Scott laced Stiles’ hands around his body and sleepily curled into Stiles’ chest.

Stiles kissed Scott’s forehead and took in the smell of Scott, now mixed with the smell of sex. It was something Stiles was sure he’d never get again, so he hugged Scott and pulled him closer. He would be there for Scott, for whatever he needed. He would pull him back from the hopelessness he felt and the crushing guilt. Stiles pulled a blanket over them and shut his eyes. He let Scott fill his senses as he too drifted off to sleep.


End file.
